Wade Frazier

Hi: Here is a little more on my fluoride essay. It was my first essay like it, in which I combined science, politics, and history. That addendum was the introduction to the original essay, and some early readers influenced me to not lead with it, and it was good advice. But my big essay begins kind of similarly. It is more appropriate there, as the first half of the essay is almost pure science. I admit that I did not understand enzymes very well when I wrote that essay in 1998, but in the study for my big essay, I came to understand them much better, and the way that fluoride ions wreck enzymes and DNA is evident to me today (they attack hydrogen bonds, among other havoc to enzymes and cellular processes). Fluorine ions are well-known enzyme poisons, used for that purpose in biological labs today. They really gum up the works in cells (and that article linked to in this sentence shows the medical racket at work, as an anonymous commenter tried to shame the site by linking to Quackwatch, which is run by a literal quack). That a well-known poison and industrial waste became compulsory “medicine” is mind-boggling, and one of the best examples of how the medical racket works. My dentist is one of the few brave ones to stand up to the barrage of lies. I wrote my fluoride essay years before going to him. My wife did first, influenced by my fluoride writings, I think. She also went to Dr. Brodie. As I have written, I first heard about the problems with American drinking water from Paul Bragg. In Ralph Hovnanian’s quotation collage were some great fluoridation quotes, such as this one by a U.S. Congressman. In my media studies, I subscribed to Covert Action Information Bulletin early on, and in the Fall 1992 edition, I read Joel Griffiths’s “Fluoride: Commie Plot or Capitalistic Ploy.” In 1997, Griffiths and Christopher Bryson self-published “Fluoride, Teeth and the Atom Bomb” on the Internet. The Christian Science Monitor commissioned the article, then refused to run it, so the authors gave it away to various websites. Those articles were the genesis of my fluoridation essay. I read John Yiamouyiannis’s classic work, Fluoride and the Aging Factor, and read several other books, with the most influential being Waldbott, Burgstahler, and McKinney's Fluoridation, The Great Dilemma. I also read pro-fluoridation works. What became most striking were the conflicts of interest amongst fluoridation’s promoters. Virtually all of them worked for fluoride polluters. Before World War II, they were in the pay of aluminum refiners, either directly or indirectly, and during World War II, the Manhattan Project needed hydrogen fluoride to refine the uranium in its atom bombs, and that is when a highly aggressive makeover of fluoride began, turning it from a deadly hazardous waste into a dental panacea. The pantheon of fluoridation’s pioneers is a rogues gallery of scoundrels in the pay of fluoride polluters, the worst of whom hid their conflicts of interest during the seminal years of political action that established fluoride as some kind of wonder drug. The worst conflicts only began to become evident with declassified documents. If they could turn hazardous waste into compulsory “medicine,” what couldn’t the medical racketeers do? I published the first edition of my fluoride essay in 1998, under the title, “Fluoride: One Scary Tale!” By when I finished my site in 2002, I gave it the name it has today. In 2004, Christopher Bryson published his magnum opus, which I waited several years to see in print (I still see my review at Amazon). Bryson’s book will be the one to be reckoned with for a long time, and it is nice to finally see scientific papers on the great harm that the fluoride ion does to biology. I see my fluoride essay as a prelude to my medical racket essay. Best, Wade

Hi: My Savings and Loan Scandal essay had its genesis when that voice in my head suggested that I might like studying business. That voice could be called diabolically prescient. As I think about how events brought me to seeing my profession as worthless, it paralleled my disillusionment with the business world during my days with Dennis, and the same month of my radicalization was the same month when the S&L Scandal became full-blown. The month after that was my life’s worst, and I walked right into a company that the medical racket tried to destroy, and the month after that, I met Gary Wean, who helped me spring Dennis from jail. The month after that, I sacrificed my life, at about the same time when I finally realized that the media can simply make it up as it goes. The month after that, Dennis walked out of jail, which seemed impossible when I sacrificed my life. We all realized that it was an act of divine intervention. As I look back, it is hard for even me to believe that it happened like it did. The roots of many themes of my work were born during those months. As I recall, the Other Rackets essay was the last one that I wrote in that section of my site (other than perhaps the introductory essay, which took on the image of Mother Teresa, the Peace Corps, and other “idealistic” efforts), which summarized several other rackets, showing how the racketeering model is universal. The game is serving one’s self while engaging in the charade of seeming to serve others. As Dennis said, the Big Boys serve humanity all right, as they eat a plateful of humanity each day. I added that John Perkins section several years later, and I revised the banking chapter when I finally realized that we were being set up during my second stint with Dennis. Mr. Professor became a millionaire by supporting the efforts of A.L Williams, as he took on the life insurance racket. Mr. Professor saw the parallels from the beginning between A.L Williams and Dennis, although Dennis was taking on something far more vast and sinister, which reached into the highest councils on Earth. If Williams had taken on something that big, he would have been kangarooed into prison, be dead by now, etc. That S&L Scandal essay was prescient, as it predicted the scandals that came right after I published it, and I also predicted the meltdown that happened between 2007 and 2009. A larger one is almost certainly on its way, as “the Everything Bubble” pops, as the same game keeps being played over and over. You can’t drink yourself sober. Capitalism is inherently evil, as it turns a vice into a virtue. Free energy will end capitalism, almost immediately. And like all other aspects of the Fifth Epoch, it will not end due to coercion, but because it will easily be seen as obsolete. It will be like comparing a comparing a campfire to the Sun. Of course, the only aspect of the Fifth Epoch that the global elite currently care about is how they will become obsolete. Seeing those scandals and disasters coming did not require psychic ability or rocket science intelligence, but just having one’s eyes open. I have read others like me who saw 2007-2009 coming, but did not know about the exact underlying mechanisms, although I also predicted the general mechanism, in which the loan owners became divorced from any loan oversight. We did not need to, as we could see the symptoms. For me, it was seeing bumper stickers that advertised no-money-down homes, and seeing the general hysteria around real estate. I had seen that movie before. We did not understand the underlying dynamics to the extent that The Big Short guys did, but we knew the symptoms of a bubble, like that Joe Kennedy moment with the shoe shine boy. Another one is coming, and it will dwarf what happened in 2007-2009, as the world’s central banks all got in on the bubble-blowing by printing insane amounts of cash, having surreal negative interest rates, etc. I am nearing the end of writing about the essays of my 2002 site, and then it will be to the NEM experience with Brian, the study for my big essay, and further encounters with Brian and Dennis. Best, Wade

Hi: The first essay that I wrote, after my second stint with Dennis, was lost to computer failure. It dealt with the work of Julian Simon’s stable of scientists and scholars, most of whom had spectacular conflicts of interest. Fred Singer sold his soul to the hydrocarbon lobby long ago, and tried to get Brian O to sell his, too. Fred Stare was openly in the pay of the agribusiness companies whose products he defended, and his protégé, Elizabeth Whelan, took that strategy to even greater extremes. I wonder if nuclear energy cheerleader Bernard Cohen will one day be exposed by declassified documents, as the fathers of fluoridation were. Simon’s stable of scientists and scholars looks more like a rogues gallery than a distinguished group of scholarly and scientific humanitarians. After the devastation of losing months of work, I decided to rewrite the essay by focusing on merely one of several areas that I dove deeply on, which was on whaling, and I only briefly surveyed the other areas in Simon’s magnum opus. In his The State of Humanity, Simon extolled the virtues of the petroleum entrepreneurs who solved the “whale-oil crisis,” so I decided to look into whaling. What a sobering, horrifying, experience. The preindustrial phase of whaling was dominated by the USA near the end, and Simon was right about one thing: there was a whale-oil crisis after the USA’s Civil War, and with the rise of petroleum, the USA got out of whaling and never returned to that fray. The industrial phase of whaling was even grimmer, if that is possible. It was really just another standard resource-depletion scenario. As I later studied for my big essay, and that stint really began in early 2003, when I read Bucky Fuller’s work, I repeatedly came upon humanity’s predilection of finding a way to exploit a new energy resource and then plundering it to exhaustion. The first one was Earth’s megafauna, which fueled humanity’s conquest of Earth. The extinction of Earth’s easy meat is now thought to have spurred the next Epoch, which was based on the domestication of plants, and to a lesser extent, animals. In each episode, there was an early Golden Age of plundering the new energy resource, soon followed by increasing competition, as humanity quickly bred to the limits of the energy supply, just like any other animal. After peak energy extraction was reached, then the decline began, punctuated by a series of crises, and in preindustrial societies, those crises were all about food. The early days of plenty became days of famine, and while large animals were the primary energy supply of the Second Epoch, the Third Epoch’s primary energy supply was comprised of trees and arable soils. Humanity quickly plundered both to exhaustion, and the earliest civilizations all collapsed as their energy supplies ran out. Humans have been little more than energy windfall opportunists, plundering one energy resource to exhaustion, and then off to the next one. For the first such instance, Earth’s large animals and the fellow species of Homo sapiens bore the brunt of humanity’s success. In the next one, the beginnings of agricultural revolutions saw expanding farmers drive hunter-gatherer men from the gene pool, while hunter-gatherer women mated with the “rich” farmers. At the tail-end of the Third Epoch, a rising Europe quickly conquered Earth and industrialized during the process, as it learned to plunder Earth’s hydrocarbon deposits, beginning with coal. Like its Second Epoch forebears, conquering Europeans began driving Second and Third Epoch humans to extinction, and most spectacularly in the Americas and Australia, which were also the scenes of the most spectacular megafauna extinctions. The Golden Age of American expansion and genocide finally ended with the USA’s first energy crisis, and American society has been in decline ever since. Rome did not fall in a day, and the USA’s imperial trajectory is obvious to informed observers, and its attempts to dominate Hydrocarbon Country are doomed to failure and could well spark World War III, if they have not already. As I look back at it, those chapters on whaling were really my first energy-centric writings, although as I wrote it, I doubt that I would have described it that way. It was only much later, when I saw the pattern repeated, that I began to truly understand, and I have to credit the Peak Oilers, led by Richard Heinberg, with helping me see that bigger picture. Again, I can see that I was already on the trail of those understandings when I wrote my energy racket essay, such as those journey of life on Earth and early human journey chapters. But encountering Uncle Bucky, and then the Peak Oilers, took my understanding to new levels, and was the genesis of the study that became my big essay. A significant purpose of this series of lessons learned posts, which I began writing last June, is to show that I did not just wake up one day with my awareness that led to writing my big essay and current approach to manifesting free energy, but it was a long, slow process, of training, experience, and study, usually in iterative fashion, with each chapter building on the previous one, which led to where I am today. This has truly been a life’s work, but I am not done yet. Best, Wade

Hi: This post will be a continuation of a primary lesson that I learned, of what relatively few people can accomplish. What I don’t need these days is New Age/conspiracist networking, bright ideas of how to enlist the help of the rich and powerful, those groups who “care,” and the like. Almost nobody is going to help. Virtually all are trapped in their Epoch and cannot see any further than their immediate self-interest, even the supposedly “enlightened” ones. When people do that, instead of doing the work to develop a comprehensive perspective, so that they can learn the song to sing, they have given away their power, thinking that they are small, weak, and unable to make dent, as they try to enlist others to make a dent for them. I am sympathetic to those who think that raising their awareness is not “doing something,” but it is. The power of raised consciousness can be an awesome thing. I know that it will work, and I know that almost nobody is willing or able to do the work, but I seek those needles, and what will attract them is that song, sung in chorus. I already have enough of a platform for it. My work is not about becoming popular, but finding the needles. It will be a long, slow process. I have lived through the rush to disaster enough times. Best, Wade

Hi: Over the past 15 years, my cover-up essay has often been my site’s most popular. I first published it in the spring of 2001. The genesis of that essay is two-fold: my journey with Dennis and my relationship with Gary Wean. I also had a close relative who was a spook, who nearly tried to recruit me into the “business.” I have never been and never will be a conspiracist. Conspiracists see conspiracies as the primary explanatory framework for events, particularly ones with great importance. I witnessed organized suppression of Dennis’s efforts, especially in Seattle and Ventura, and it happened once and for all with his last attempt in the USA to change the USA’s energy paradigm. It did not matter if the sitting president’s energy advisor was one of Dennis’s fans, the people really running the show had the final say. The Rockefellers and Rothschilds were involved, but levels above them also were. The highest councils on Earth pondered how to solve the problem that Dennis presented, and they have not forgotten about me, either. Dennis should not have survived what happened in Ventura, and handful of us saved him, at awesome cost to ourselves. Gary’s help was critical in my effort to rescue Dennis, and Gary is in my pantheon for that alone. Gary also suffered greatly at the hands of conspiratorial interests, nearly being murdered himself, and dying in exile, destitute, in Oregon. During his amazing and horrifying journey, his friendship with Audie Murphy led to Gary’s listening to John Tower’s tale of Oswald’s involvement in the JFK hit, a mere three weeks after the assassination. I met Gary a month after the darkest period of my life’s journey, so I had already been radicalized and was ready for his advice. I spent the next dozen years looking into the JFK assassination before I went public with my thoughts. For me, the lesson of the JFK hit is how powerless American presidents really are. They can be murdered in broad daylight in front of hundreds of witnesses, and it all gets covered up, with the leader of the “investigation” being one of the prime suspects. Soon before he died, Brian O told me that retail politics was a dead end, and he would have known. Murdering political figures, while serving up a “lone nut” scapegoat, became a sport for the USA’s spooks for a generation. I also know some of what sits in Godzilla’s Golden Hoard, and Steven Greer also got a little peek once. In my circles, those shows were no big deal. Around the same time that I began looking into the JFK hit, I also began looking into what might have been covered up about the Apollo Moon landings, and eventually got sucked into the controversy of whether the Moon landings were faked. They weren’t; they happened as advertised, although there may have been a cover-up of UFO encounters during those missions. The UFO and free energy cover-ups are conjoined and comprise history’s greatest cover-up. According to Douglas Caddy’s testimony, there was an ET connection in JFK’s murder, too. Brian O’s life was shortened because he snooped into the UFO issue. But those activities are a minor aspect of how our world works. What is vastly more important is the low overall integrity and semi-sentient in-group behaviors of the rest of humanity. The enemy is us. That was the primary lesson of my journey, not that there are conspiring “bad guys.” One on hand, you have hyperventilating conspiracists who see all important events through a conspiratorial lens, and on the other you have people who are ideologically opposed to the idea of conspiracies. Both are delusional mindsets, but what they have in common is thinking like victims, which is humanity’s specialty. I noticed a dynamic around the JFK hit that I eventually generalized to all such situations. The 9/11 issue is the latest big one, and plenty about the official explanation does not add up, as usual. While I am far from certain of what really happened or will ever be officially revealed, just like I doubt that JFK’s murder will ever be definitively solved, I would not put it past the power structure to murder thousands of Americans as a stepping stone to murdering millions of people in Oil Country. I don’t know what they would not dare. The dark path is dark indeed. That entire area of study and investigation makes three-ring circuses seem dull, with all manner of bizarre theory, battles over minutia, a largely indifferent public, and a sizeable fraction that is titillated by the spectacle. To the American public’s credit, however, most think that Oswald was not a lone nut, and they see it as a symptom of how illegitimate the America retail political system is, and most Americans won’t participate in it, although I am not sure how noble such non-participation is. I think that if those people thought that they could make a dent, more would participate, but they know, on some level, how rigged the system is. I don’t blame them. What happened to us in Ventura were just days at the office among black Americans. Only middle class Americans or the retail political class have a hard time believing what happened to us. To those who have been around the block a few times, what happened to us was “normal.” Best, Wade

Hi: My work is consciously comprehensive, and one prominent aspect is that I don’t deny or demean the abilities of consciousness, and recognize materialism as a religion. The nature of consciousness is perhaps the most contentious issue on Earth, as the controversy arises from consciousness. I can’t overemphasize that blind belief is the stuff of enslavement, whether it is nationalism, capitalism, organized religion, or materialism. I do not advocate that people believe anything, especially blindly. All of my free energy fellow travelers had a mystical orientation, and only Dennis was also overtly religious, which reflects his migrant farmworker childhood. But none of them developed their mystical outlooks via religious indoctrination, a literature review, or received teaching, but by direct personal experience. There is no substitute for it, because when you have experience, you know, which has nothing to do with any beliefs. It amazes me how often people fail to understand that distinction, from all walks of life. I have been attacked for not being materialistic enough in my approach, and have been attacked for not being mystical enough, as people grind their particular axes. A great virtue of the scientific approach is its quest for knowledge that can be universally demonstrated. It has its limitations, however, in its present incarnation, which the greatest scientists readily recognized. But the priest class of science has labored mightily to turn the theories of science into a religion, and their leading practitioners I consider criminals. Materialists call their beliefs assumptions, when they are honest enough to admit it. They are just assumptions that they prefer over others. That is no different from religious belief. Just yesterday, I was reading an article in the latest Scientific American (“Pop goes the universe”) that dealt with recent satellite data that deals a possibly fatal blow to the cosmic inflation model. The article brought up the entire issue of the Big Bang and its validity. As scientists find that their theories are not garnering empirical support, there is now a faction that argues for non-empirical science. It is essentially no different from empty religious musings, such as how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, but scientists are proposing it with a straight face. I have seen this in many areas of science, in which there is no data to support their theories, but they think that one day there might be, but some are saying that there will never be any supporting data. Such musings cease to resemble science as we know it. My mystical awakening happened during the same exercise that Brian had his in five years later. If not for my mystical orientation, I would have never walked the path that I did, such as heeding that voice in my head (1, 2), when I asked for it (and getting angry when I didn’t). My many years of digesting spiritual literature would have been a meaningless exercise without my mystical awakening. All of the essays on my site I tried to keep in a tight orbit around my experiences, to the extent that I could, and that goes for my spirituality essay. I have not had an NDE or OBE, but know plenty of people who have. With what I have experienced, those ideas are not much of a stretch. Why is it so unbelievable that our consciousness precedes and survives our physical bodies? The models of consciousness are just that, models, and I have had way too much experience that falsifies the materialistic models of consciousness. Sadly, the Silva Method is a shadow of its former self, but for those who quest after it, getting mystical experiences is not hard to do, although younger souls with their outward focus may have a harder time of it. And once you have such an experience, you can see through the false faith of materialism. That spirituality essay had the longest genesis, going back to my teenage years of Seth, the Aquarian Gospel, and the like. As I look back, I think that it was no accident that my mystical awakening happened the same year as my cultural awakening and my energy dreams. I was being prepared for my adventures, like a lamb being led to slaughter. I can’t regret any of it, but that voice in my head has plenty of explaining to do. In recent months, I have been reading a great deal of “other side” literature, and the gist of it is pretty clear: we all live forever, and physical reality is the hard school, in Creation’s basement. What also became clear was the disservice that virtually all religions laid on the afterlife experience, and I include materialism among them, and the more dogmatic, the greater the disservice. As Carl Sagan was dying, he violently rejected the idea that his consciousness might survive his body’s demise. Those who do that are setting themselves up for a difficult immediate afterlife, either going into a catatonic state, repeating a mantra that they don’t exist, or wandering near physical reality or the lower astral plane for what would be centuries in our perspective of time. Carl’s immediate afterlife was likely something like that, and I also think that Brian might have indeed tried to rescue his old friend. I am sure that they smoked a bowl or two at Cornell. In the Fifth Epoch, science and technology will bear only a faint resemblance to today’s, and materialism will go the way of other extinct ideological systems, which will include all of today’s dominant ideologies. I know psychonauts who have had journeys like Michael Roads’s, and some brought back earth-shaking inventions (which were suppressed or stolen, of course ). I first encountered Roads’s visit to a Fifth Epoch society more than 20 years ago, about the time that I met Michael. They had scientific understandings that were orders of magnitude beyond today's, with attendant technologies that would seem magical to us (as what my pal saw seemed to be), and they achieved it through consciously choosing love, while those in that nightmare future did not. That, in a nutshell, is what I am doing: trying to lay the groundwork for that heavenly future Earth to manifest (or something very like it), and those who help the most are going to live there in future incarnations, and I can’t do it alone. If we are fortunate, we may live to see humanity turn the corner instead of crash and burn, but it depends on what we do, and now. Best, Wade

Hi: My energy racket essay was written in 2001 or 2002. Brian O liked it, and I see it as an embryonic version of my big essay. I wrote it before I encountered Bucky’s work and my paradigm crystallized. When I look at that energy racket essay, I can see how I was groping toward that comprehensive perspective. A dozen years of study followed that energy racket essay and my Bucky revelations, which enabled me to write my big essay. After I drafted my big essay, I revised all of my site’s big essays, partly so that they aligned with my big essay. I have no further plans to update my site’s older essays. From here on out, I only plan to update my big essay, and the makeover that I will do, this year, if I am fortunate, will be the biggest one since I wrote it, and will likely be the biggest for years to come. Readers of my daily posts will have a pretty good idea of the revisions that I will make, which largely just expand and deepen the treatment of key subjects in the essay, nothing that will change its basic thrust. When I compare my older essays to my big essay, it shows me how long my perspective was in coming. Developing a comprehensive perspective is not easy. It takes many years of experience, training, study, and the like. I regularly see people come to my work and think that they understand it after days, weeks, or months, but it takes far longer than that to really begin to understand, for anybody who has yet to play on the high road. Much of the learning is not so much digesting new and unusual information, but recognizing the limitations of our “educations” and learning how to toss out that garbage. We all get it, at varying levels of conditioning and indoctrination, from the TV news to grade school classrooms to the print media to university training to learning the “laws of physics” to the materialism that is our Epoch’s religion. There is a mountain of chaff on the fringes, too, and developing our tools of discernment is a key to navigating toward that comprehensive perspective. One important theme in my upcoming essay update is how adaptive sociality is, and how nearly all activists have it exactly backwards, if they seek meaningful change. Sociality adapts to changing economic conditions, not the other way around. With Trump’s election, American “liberal” protestors (AKA “complainers”) have been reenergized, after being lulled to sleep by Obama. Sociality is pre-sentient behavior and is useless for initiating epochal change, and the introduction of free energy will be the biggest one in the human journey, by far, as humanity becomes a Type 1 civilization. Sociality is egocentric in nature, especially for humans, and is born of survival. I watched humanity’s social managers almost effortlessly defeat mass movement efforts, easily enticing people to destroy the efforts from within, with a provocateur or two sprinkled into their midst. Only combined positive intention has a prayer of making a dent, and all members of the effort have to develop their own internal compasses, not be dependent on somebody like me. I recently finished Chimpanzee Politics, and it was more informative than I thought it might be, as I had already read some of de Waal’s books. What comes across clearly in Chimpanzee Politics, particularly if you read accounts of chimps in the wild, is how adaptive sociality is. In the wild, female chimps do not form any close social bonds, other than their offspring while they raise them. They forage largely alone with their young offspring. But once their food supply doubled when gorillas left the region and never returned, those isolated chimps took that economic windfall and radically reorganized their societies. Wild chimps without that windfall never did. Similarly, in the captive chimp population that de Wall studied, females developed coalitions and when de Waal first began studying them, females dominated that captive colony; de Wall had them removed so that the males could rise to dominance, as they do in the wild. When they were afforded the luxury of three square meals a day without having to forage for it, female chimps almost immediately began moving in the direction of bonobo social organization. All human sociality is conditioned by economic reality, from hunter-gatherers to peasants to factory and office workers. This is a key understanding that has so far eluded almost all “activists.” Reshuffling the deck of scarcity is no solution at all for the predicaments that humanity faces, but all activists are trapped in the political-economic structure of their societies, unable to see beyond them to the Epoch that awaits, if enough of us can wake up and do the work. When I look at my energy racket essay, what is still unique about it that my big essay does not cover? Some parts of the prehistory and early civilization chapters go into some areas more than my big essay does. The rise of Europe chapter has its counterpart in my big essay, but I think that the big essay shows how much more study went into it during the intervening years, as with those earlier chapters. The next chapter, on the Industrial Revolution and the science of energy, is about when that essay gets into details that are not anywhere else on my site, and probably my favorite chapter of that essay is about science and the real world, and the mystical aspects of history’s greatest scientists. The next chapter, on my introduction to the energy issue via Mr. Mentor’s engine, clearly shows the genesis of my energy orientation, which began when I was 16. I don’t do it anywhere else on my site, so that essay is unique and important to my work, for that chapter if nothing else. The next chapter was my first attempt to relate energy and economics, and the subsequent years of study is probably where my understanding grew the most. Today, it amazes me how many people have no idea whatsoever of the relationship between energy and economy. The last chapter of my big essay that I wrote was in response to a pal who wanted me to write more on the relationship between the financial and real economy, as people around him had no idea how they were related. I consider that to be one of the greatest triumphs of economic indoctrination, to make the key relationship invisible. The obsession of mainstream economics today is all about exchange, which will become meaningless in the Fifth Epoch. The next chapter is where I play historian to Dennis’s efforts, which I told in more detail in an ancillary essay. For anybody who is the least bit serious about helping manifest the Fifth Epoch, Dennis’s story is required reading. Nobody has ever played at his level for as long, and my account is one of the only ones existing that is not disinformation, which has been duping the gullible for many years. Anybody who understands Dennis’s journey should have little trouble understanding why there is no alternative energy of significance on Earth today, which was the subject of that next chapter. Of course, writing about Dennis’s journey as a historian was not easy, with me being a key figure in his journey, and I had to work through many difficult emotions while writing it, as I do to this day. This thread of my lessons learned is my latest attempt to put it out there and then put it behind me, so that my pupils can learn vicariously. That essay’s final chapter is where I wax mystically and hint at the bigger picture about the energy issue, which I don’t do much of in my big essay, as I more played scientist and historian in that essay. Writing this post took me back a ways, to my teenage days and my journey since then, and the process of writing this made me appreciate that essay more than I did before I began writing this post. It definitely has its place in my writings, even though parts of it can seem pretty dated when compared to my big essay. I don’t plan to revise it much. Best, Wade

Hi: My former friend’s attacks were about the last straw for me regarding interacting with the public, perhaps paradoxically, as he certainly was not the “public.” The attacks from the public greatly escalated after 9/11, and while they were unpleasant, my former friend’s attacks were what sealed it for me, and I had no public interaction for the next five years. But what happened a few months later was a much bigger event for me: Mr. Professor’s death. His wrecked life and premature death was the worst part of my journey, by far. To emphasize that the story of my former friend’s attacks are typical in the free energy field, Mr. Professor received similar attacks from his family. I have written about it some before, with my most complete account here, and will add a bit more in this post. Mr. Professor grew up on a farm in North Dakota, of Norwegian ancestry, and his ancestors settled during the same wave of migration that brought my mother’s family to the USA, and they first came to Minnesota before moving to Bellingham, in a typical migration route for Scandinavians in the late 19th century (after those pesky Indians were eliminated). Like Dennis and me, Mr. Professor was the firstborn, with that firstborn’s disease of being extremely capable and taking care of his siblings and family. Mr. Professor had three or four younger sisters. His father was an alcoholic, and Mr. Professor became the family patriarch while young. He was in the military and sent his paychecks home to support the family. He moved to California at about the same time that the Lakers did, in that great westward migration during the postwar boom. The year before we hit Ventura, Mr. Professor lived a nearly fairy tale existence, as the beloved college teacher who was a millionaire, a strapping physical specimen, and he surely shared the wealth with his family. I can’t get into all of what he went through in those days with me, but he went through several kinds of hell. When we stood up to the gangsters that run Ventura County, his family began suffering greatly via official action, and his family thought that it might have been vengeance by those dark pathers, and it may have been. His family suffers to this day from it, and is why they want him to remain anonymous in my work, and I have honored their request, although I have posted a picture of him. It got to where Mr. Professor was no longer able to help his family, which was the worst part for him. As was the case with my family, when he no longer helped support them, they turned on him. His mother didn’t, and I had the great fortune of witnessing how she felt about her son. Her sun rose and set on him, for good reason. But his mother suffered a debilitating stroke not long after Mr. Professor moved back home, and I visited her with him in 1994, and he was the most dutiful son imaginable, naturally. Not long before he died, he told me that his sisters accused him of plundering the family’s wealth, which I knew was an outrageous lie, and they all disowned him. When I attended his funeral, none of his sisters attended. His death sent me tumbling into the dark phase of my midlife crisis, which did not begin to lift until more than four years later, when Dennis invited me to the White House. On my Bucket List road trip in 2013, I visited Mr. Professor’s grave, and he unexpectedly came through to me, letting me know how happy that he was to be involved with me, and since then, I think happier thoughts when I think of him. It will now be back to the process of writing those essays that became the 2002 version of my site. Best, Wade

Hi: The other day, I looked to see what a pal was up to, and discovered that he died last year. He died the same age as my assistant did a few years ago. Too young! This pal’s story deserves to be told. His name was Joe Starr. He was a programmer who built systems that I designed at a high-tech company, which is one of the favorite parts of my career that I don’t get to do often enough. As we were talking systems one day, he unwittingly took the conversation into a Wade’s World direction, and we began to go down that rabbit hole a ways. When I told him about the offers to make us go away (1, 2), like Ron Waugh did, he piped up with this own story. He had a friend who had a “bright idea” for some energy technology, and before he got very far along, he was approached and offered $2 million for his bright idea, sold out, and started a software company with the money. That was one of the lower amounts that I have heard of, but a solo inventor with a bright idea is a different animal than us in Boston, or Ventura. Running into those stories from corporate colleagues, not to mention my own adventures, made Greer’s $100 billion in quiet money story very understandable. Joe and I had more than energy buyouts in common. Joe was very involved in the Amanda Knox case, as you can see here. Joe had been a military policeman, and Amanda was in prison when Joe and I worked together. Joe told me of the irregularities of her treatment (such as hypothesis becoming fact in the Italian legal system), and I told him that I was familiar with innocent people being imprisoned, and right here in the USA, not abroad. The system that he inherited at my company was a mess, which was always poorly managed. When he understandably recommended that they perform a clean install of the software, and then reinstall the modifications the right way, my boss decided to go to another software package, and Joe thereby lost his job. I took Joe hiking, and wanted to do more with him, but his knee gave him problems. In those pictures of Joe, you can see that he could have stood to lose a few pounds, and my guess is that he died of a heart attack, which is the American way to go. I’ll miss Joe. Best, Wade

Hi: During those more than two years when I did not hear from my former friend, my mother and I would talk on the phone periodically, and during one conversation she mentioned attending a social gathering of my friend’s family. During that gathering, my friend grilled my mother for an hour about me. It may have happened more than once during those years, and it was not good news. He could not let our former relationship go. In early 2002, as my nation went insane, I was busily working on my essays. I finished a draft of my trucking essay. The best critics of my work have been my friends and allies, and without their input, my writings would be far inferior to what they are today. Other critics without fail have been irrational, uninformed, or dishonest, or all three. I learned the greatest lessons of my writing career via my editor’s red pen. For my trucking essay, I decided to send the draft around to all of the allies that I could, and looked through my emails from the public, seeing who might want to review that essay and give me feedback. One recipient was that email address of my former friend’s, with which he approached me by disguising his identity when praising my work. By that time, the Internet had a billion users or so, so that email address, as far as I knew, could have been used by somebody in China, but I assumed that it was an American. So, I sent out those emails, fishing for criticism, and received back one of the most bizarre emails ever from that friend’s “secret” email address. It was a diatribe, accusing me of megalomania, but it got highly personal in describing my life, including my cats. The email’s author concluded the attack by stating that he worked with the CIA, was Ralph McGehee, even, and that they were watching my every move. The writer seemed mentally ill. I have received all manner of attack over the years, but that one was in a special category and more than vaguely threatening. I considered contacting law enforcement for that one, for all the good it might do me. Over the next day, I thought about that attack. Something seemed familiar about it, and when I examined the email address, in it were three letters after a string of numbers. They were the initials of my former friend’s name, but scrambled. I replied to what I was then sure was my friend’s email, stating his name, and letting him know that I was going to let his crime slide and not tell anybody, such as his parents, what he had done, but that I did not want to hear from him again, and I did not want him to grill my mother about my life. I further informed him that I was putting that email address on my spam filter, so that I would not hear from him again. I also informed him that I would become a public figure with my work, and that he was not to arrive on any scene that might form around me, on the Internet or in the real world. He had just surrendered that privilege. There is a famous saying that when scoundrels’ crimes are discovered, their only defense is impudence, and my friend exemplified that strategy. If my friend was the least bit thoughtful, he would have stayed silent. I was only guessing, after all, about my assailant’s identity, although his scrambled initials were pretty good evidence, as was the content of his weird email. He could have just slunk away with nobody being the wiser, and I would have never been able to prove that he was the assailant. But he was nursing a big erection for me. At the time, he lived with his sister, who was more of a misfit than her brother was, who never had a romantic relationship, became a Christian fanatic, and I think was still a virgin, in her 40s. Their household likely resembled something from The Accidental Tourist. My former friend adopted the strategy of, “The best defense is good offense.” Using his sister’s email account, he removed all doubt about my assailant’s identity, going into another frontal attack on me, replete with four-letter words. I showed my wife his attacks, and she replied that they were the stuff of restraining orders. And he was not finished. I called my mother after my former friend unmasked himself, to ask that she not volunteer information about me to my former friend. The last thing that I needed was another stalker. My mother replied that it had been quite a day, as she recently received a call from my former friend. He called her to complain that I had attacked him! My mother also said that as he reported my “attack” on him, in the background his sister was laughing riotously. My former friend had passed far over the line into criminal activity, and his contacting my mother with his blatant lies was an attempt to damage my relationship with my mother. He was well aware of how fragile it was, and tried to hit me where it would hurt the most. Again, I had close family members do far worse, and they knew where they could try to hurt me the most. And none of their attacks were remotely justified. In every instance, they attacked me out of their wounded egos, which were related to my journey, such as my not respecting my friend’s “opinion” on the righteous imperial violence that the USA inflicted on its targets. My “crime” was not agreeing with his “analyses” and avoiding such conversations with him. If they wanted to come after me, that was their “right,” I suppose, although my friend committed a crime. But going after my relationship with my mother I will never forgive, and others who committed similar crimes have been permanently removed from my life. Not one of them ever apologized, but somehow justified their crimes as righteous deeds, as if I deserved even more. When I state that personal integrity is the world’s scarcest commodity, these are merely some more examples. When I witnessed the many attempts to steal our companies, or had my moment of truth on the witness stand, none of that hurt nearly as much as what my family and friends did, and my former girlfriend’s attacks were merely a gentle preview of what was ahead for me. Call it stupidity, insanity, malevolence, or whatever, but my friend was likely oblivious to the risk that he was putting himself and those around him into. I had to threaten him into public silence, in order to protect him. If he began publicly campaigning against me, he would be putty in the hands of people such as Bill the BPA Hit Man, like Harlow was. Professionals such as Ken Hodgell would have effortlessly used him to get at me, and my friend would have wrecked lives around him as he wrecked his own, to get vengeance on me for not applauding his geopolitical “analyses.” Mr. Skeptic would have happily used him as a disposable tool in his disinformation campaigns. I was not terribly surprised when my friend publicly attacked me nearly a decade later, soon before I joined Avalon, and like the coward he is, he again tried to disguise his identity, that time by trying to implicate another childhood friend, but he is not smart enough to play that game. That time, I sent the documentation of his crimes to him, and let him know that if he wanted to become famous and not in a good way, to keep it up, and the documentation of his crimes would likely live on the Internet longer than he would. I think that he was finally cowed into silence, as his crimes would then become public knowledge. I am going into the details of this situation more than usual, and don’t plan to do anything like it again. My intent is to drive home to gung-ho newcomers what the hazards of the free energy pursuit are like. What Mr. Deputy, Ken Hodgell, Bill the BPA Hit Man, and other Establishment criminals did paled to insignificance next to what my family and friends did. What I have recounted in this series of posts about my former friend is actually a typical story amongst my fellow travelers. Attacks from those closest to me just came with the territory, and is why the social circle approach to free energy does not have a prayer and never did. Best, Wade

Hi: After my friend’s tantrum in 1999, I was more than done with him. The worst part, for me, was not interacting with his parents again, especially his father. They are almost certainly dead by now. But it was my friend’s family. I was not about to cause any friction with his family, interacting with them would have risked it, and would have been a low-integrity thing for me to do. As I have written plenty, my relationship with my mother was never the same after the Ventura days, but she stayed with me for a week in 1996, soon before I left Ohio, while I was working on that first site of mine, while my youngest brother lived with me. I saved or supported all of my immediate family, and to give you an idea of how it all went for me, before she died, our relationship became the best one that I had with my immediate family. I no longer have contact with my brothers or father, who all attacked me and disowned me, which just comes with this territory. What I am about to relate about my ex-friend pales next to what my family did, which I will not publicly discuss while they are alive. In February 2001, my nearly two-year stint of full-time work ended, and it was back to study and writing, which I did continually until I finished my site in September 2002 (I also had a 15-hour per week job as a controller for a dot-com startup). One agonizing day in February, after a dozen years of study and writing, I finally came to terms with the reality that I would never write a book. The Internet style that I was using was not compatible with writing a book, and once I gave up on the idea of writing a book, it became much easier to do my writing. As I look back, I can tell that I was groping toward that comprehensive perspective that encountering Bucky’s work two years later helped crystalize. The message that I have to impart will not work in the confines of a book. It is far larger than that. I have made plenty of nods to newcomers, with easy summaries of my work and its thrust (1, 2, 3), but they are all only introductory, as any book would be. I have provided the people I seek plenty of “easy” introductions to my work, and trying to publish a book will put me at risk in ways that few people can comprehend. I have many professional authors in my circles, and am not interested in the book-publishing route, even though people constantly encourage me to, which means that they really do not understand what I am doing. The last thing that I am trying to do is write a bestseller. Being “popular” is not going to help what I am doing. Quite the contrary, it is the path of failure for what I am attempting. I need quality, not quantity. What I need far more than “visibility” today is for somebody to step up and run with me, having a comprehensive conversation, and that is going to attract the people I seek. That has not really happened yet, but I never expected this to start quickly. The biggest event in the human journey will take time, perhaps longer than a lifetime such as mine, and I am OK with that. If nothing else, it is teaching me patience. About the first thing that I did after coming to terms with not writing a book was finally trying to get to the bottom of the Moon landings issue, and I spent a few months on it. Then it was helping Ralph and Brian, and then 9/11 happened, and I knew at that moment that my efforts were going to be too little and too late, which began sending me to the dark phase of my midlife crisis, but a few more events propelled me there, and my former friend “helped.” After 9/11, my great nation lost its collective sanity, and marked the end of the days on innocence on the Internet. Not only was the dot-com bubble on its way to collapsing, but before 9/11, I fielded my fair share of attacks from the public over my work (often from my social circles, however, and even death threats were tossed around over my work), but they were relatively mild compared to what happened after 9/11. Essays such as The American Empire would not endear me to American flag wavers, and I also received plenty of attacks over Dennis’s efforts. I had a recent event that highlighted the issues that I have with people’s low general intelligence, even the so-called “smart.” I have not promoted anything that Dennis has done since my second stint with him, when I finally learned my lesson about the utter futility of the businessman/inventor’s approach to free energy. I also had serious doubts about any mass movement effort to make free energy happen, and I finally saw the light with my NEM stint with Brian, but that comes later. My writings about Dennis since 1997 have always been what I learned from my journey with Dennis, not what he has been up to since then, and I really have not been very interested. His approach is all that he knows, and it does not have a prayer, IMO. One hero is not going to save humanity from itself. But almost all of my critics since then have failed to understand the distinction, or they do, and are being dishonest in their irrational criticisms. Dennis made the greatest attempt in world history to bring disruptive energy technology to market, and my account is one the few existing that is not outright disinformation. Dennis’s journey should be required study for anybody who is interested in bringing free energy to humanity. During those years around 9/11, Mr. Skeptic stalked me on the Internet, heaving a disinformation bomb at anybody who promoted my work, which wrecked some of my cyber-relationships. But he was a minor nuisance compared to the avalanche of attacks that I received after 9/11. They were all from Americans, as I recall, and what was consistent was how increasingly irrational and vicious they were, and one came from a government official who threatened me, again trying to portray me as Dennis’s promoter. My work would have been far easier if Dennis had stopped trying in 1997, but he will not stop as long as he is breathing. However, he has been legally enjoined from engaging in the energy industry in the USA ever again, which greatly lessened the attention to my work that Dennis’s efforts drew, and thankfully, for me. I am just portraying the situation around my former friend’s activities in 2002, which were criminal and despicable, which is coming. What people are capable of doing, from their wounded egos. Best, Wade

Hi: I got married in the minister’s living room in a ten minute ceremony (across the street from the county complex where my life was ruined), and my wife and I had one witness each, and my friend was mine (my wife’s sisters also attended), and he helped us move out of our house the next day. His mother typed up my wife’s master’s thesis, I helped clean up their disheveled house, and many events like that happened over the years. My friend had a troubled childhood and nearly burned down his family’s home when he was twelve or so, my mother came over and comforted him, and they were close ever since. Our families had numerous ties like that. I can’t recall the exact year, but I believe that it was a year or two after moving to Ohio, when my friend called me up, telling me that my mother had just left his parent’s home. She showed them a scrapbook that she had made of the libelous articles about our company, telling them the story of her son the criminal. My mother had refused to speak to me after the raid, and we had not spoken for years at that moment. When I heard of her “my son the criminal” scrapbook tour, I had been through so much by that time that it did not even hurt anymore. I received much worse from close family members, but my relationship with my mother was never the same after the Ventura experience. I saw her three times after I moved away from Ventura, in conjunction with family reunions that I arranged and usually paid for, until her death in 2012. So, there were many close connections between our families. In 1998, I was working on my site, doing my studies and writing. After college graduation, my friend became a middle school teacher. After a decade or so of that, he decided to go back to school and become a nurse, and moved in with his parents to attend that local community college that offered a two-year nursing program. He got out of debt when he quit his job and moved in with his parents, as he played the starving college student. He could have taken loans, but chose not to. Other than some help from Dennis for a few months in 1997, before his company collapsed, I was on my own with my writing and study, with my wife working and me maxing out our credit cards. I went back to work in early 1999, and worked almost continuously for the next two years (other than that summer of World War II studies). In late 1998, my friend called me, and for the first time, he asked me for money. I think it was for books for school or something similar. I was living off of my credit cards, and tried to tell him so, and his reply was, “I would do it for you!” He could have done what I did, getting a credit card for his purchases (we all got credit card applications almost daily back then, with the first Fed-fueled bubble), but he was somehow opposed to going into bank debt. So I had to borrow on my credit card to loan him the money. He was abusing our friendship once again, and as he used his friendship to secure that loan, he mentioned that sometime in the future he needed some work done on his car, and that he might hit me up again for more. I was not an enthusiastic lender. His brother, the doctor of pharmacy, was making great money, but he was hitting me up. That “someday” literally came a week later, when my friend called up and asked for more money. When I mentioned how quickly “someday” was, he said, “I would do it for you!” I lent him the money, about $1,200 in total, and soon went back to work at a dot-com company, with that money to him being part of my decision. Not long afterward, he called me up to have one of his standard violence-justifying conversations. I had been writing very publicly since 1991 about the USA’s imperial behavior, largely regarding Iraq, and I kind of predicted 9/11, and there my friend was, calling me up to cheer whomever we were bombing. This was not long after loaning him that money, and I asked him to refrain from calling me about political issues. It was the same tired conversation that we had had at least 50 times before, in which he parroted the TV news. Living on the West Coast, particularly cities such as LA, San Francisco, and Seattle, is a great way to meet people from all over the world. I live across the street from Microsoft’s headquarters, and my neighborhood is a little world’s fair, as my neighbors are nerds from across the world, from China to India to the Middle East to Eastern Europe. My friend tried to become worldly by cultivating relationships with foreign nationals, which is not hard to do in those cities, and he had some pals from Yugoslavia. But the immigrants to the USA are often from ruling classes, not the impoverished peoples from around the world, or if they are, they pick America’s fruits and vegetables, harvest mushrooms in the forests, work in factories and fast food establishments, and are not the upper-class professionals that my friend and I would encounter in our daily lives. Where I work today has employees from across the world, and I am in constant interaction with people whose mother tongue is not English. As somebody who is hard of hearing, it is challenging. When Bill Clinton began bombing Serbia, my friend called me up to cheer the bombing, stating that the Serbs “only understand violence.” He got that little ditty from his upper-class Yugoslavian pals. That was the last straw for me, and it was for him, too. I told him that I had asked that he not call me up to talk politics, and he berated me for not “respecting” his opinion. He was right. I didn’t. We were finished. There was the matter of the $1,200 that he essentially extorted from me. I wrote to his parents, noted that my friendship with their son had ended, that he owed me $1,200, and that I wanted him to pay it to his parents, not me, and they could become whole from the $1,000 that they had invested in my company. My friend later wrote me, in appreciation of my gesture. I let him know that he was welcome, but I did not want to interact with him. I was busy with my World War II and Holocaust studies and writings, and that last thing that I needed was interacting with him, an Ashkenazi Jew, of all people. Over the years, some have accused me of being a megalomaniac. However, every time that somebody did that, it was to try to deflect attention from their deep personality issues as they attacked me, because they did not get from me what they wanted. Every time somebody did that, I withdrew from the relationship, and each time, I later heard about their meltdowns, with some becoming candidates for institutionalization. I wake up every day with my ego, have to deal with it each day, and I do my best to not let it get the best of me. Not many can do what I do and not go off the deep end. Some have declared themselves to be the Second Coming or Messiah, go Über-warrior, be overcome by greed, and so on. I have seen it all, and I have had to do my best to stay grounded, and hiking in nature is one of my strategies. You will see how I know this in coming posts, but a few months after I contacted his parents, he wrote me an email. I had my email address on my site from 1996 to 2002, so anybody could contact me. He disguised his identity in that email, posing as somebody who stumbled upon my site, and gave me high praise. I gave the usual cordial and terse thanks for reading. He was testing his theory that I was a megalomaniac, but I responded in a modest way. Some weeks later, I received another email from him. He did not disguise his identity that time, and said that he wanted to renew our friendship. I was in the middle of the study and writing that damaged my marriage, and the last thing that I needed was to interact with him. I was open to it maybe someday, but I responded by asking that we put off any kind of rapprochement for some time. Like a lover spurned, he flew into a tirade, extolling his benevolence in contacting me again while hurling several insults my way. His tantrum reminded me why I did not want to interact with him. I was finished with him. I could not afford to have “friends” who were like albatrosses around my neck, not with what I was attempting. He was far from the only parasite in my life, and I eventually had to let them all go. In every instance, they attacked me when they did not think that I gave them what they “deserved,” and in each instance, they ended the relationship, and I was relieved when they did. This is a hazard of being an overgrown Boy Scout. In our world of scarcity and fear, people quest after people like us, will bleed us dry if they can (that hooker is one example of many), and will become indignant if the well runs dry. It happened many times with friends and family members, to the extent that I am very careful about any social interaction with people. And among my fellow travelers, what I am relating here is a typical story, which I am getting into the details of, as a cautionary tale for gung-ho newcomers to the free energy field. Like in the movie Fatal Attraction, my former friend was not finished with me, and he would later commit crimes against me, which is coming. Best, Wade

Hi: To continue that cautionary tale, almost more important than our friendship, his parents treated me like another son, and his father was in ways a better father to me than my own father was. He was a classic Jewish mensch. While I was being raised with the idea that I would not quite be a man until I had been a soldier, in the early 1970s, when it looked like his sons might be drafted to fight in the USA’s evil invasion of Southeast Asia, he was planning to move his family to Australia. Only the end of the draft kept that family in the USA. My friend’s mother was raised during the Blitz in London, and left Europe as soon as she could. Jews are mobile. That friend saw me go from a happy teenager to an unhappy professional in LA. He lived in Newport Beach while I worked in skid row, and those contrasts are the greatest in LA. We saw plenty of each other, and when I moved away for the second time to Seattle, he understood. When I became Dennis’s partner, I gave away 10% of my shares, and that friend received some. A month later, his mother called me, to get in on the action, and they became part of my second wave of investors. They put up $1,000. A few months later, we were moving back to Ventura, because of the secret deal that Mr. Mentor made with Dennis, so my friend got a front-row seat to what happened in Ventura. He came to Ventura from Newport Beach often during those next three years. He was the person who called me up in December 1988, telling me that he was glad that he was not me, and I could not blame him. I would have rather been anyplace else on Earth. He was my most supportive friend during the Ventura nightmare, but I now know that there was a voyeuristic aspect to his interest in me. I had been in situations that he could barely fathom, and he saw my life get wrecked. It fascinated him, in a kind of horrific way. He saw me sacrifice my life, and he gets some credit for my marriage. During one visit to my home, he told my future wife that I was the greatest human being that he ever met. His endorsement helped her sort me out from the other aspirants for her hand (and that is another long story that I will never tell publicly). After the dust settled in Ventura, I got married, moved away from my home town, and never returned. But that friend stayed close. I took him on the only two backpacks of his life, in the Cascades, in 1993 and 1996, paid to fly him out to Ohio for a week, in 1995, and he came to visit me soon after I moved back to Seattle. But I need to back up to the genesis of the end of our relationship. My mother was a TV addict and I was raised on it, until I gave it up during my first year of college and never went back. As I look back, it was a key moment in my journey of awakening, as I unhooked from the most potent brainwashing technology in the USA. But my former friend is likely a TV addict to this day. He was the person who called me right after Dennis was arrested, telling me of the news clip that was being aired in LA. He got a dose through me of how the media played the game, but it did not dissuade him from parroting what he saw on TV. For instance, he called me in anger about the Iraq incubator story. He was not angry at the media, but swallowed the story whole. I was just beginning my media studies then, and would soon receive my first issue of Lies of Our Times. After being on the receiving end of the media’s lies so many times by then, I was quite skeptical of the “news.” My friend called me regularly, parroting what was on the evening new shows, while I was beginning my media studies, and encountering Uncles Noam, Ed, and the like was revelatory for me in those days. I bought a copy of the first media analysis book I ever read, Unreliable Sources, and sent it to my friend. I hoped that he would begin to understand that he was drinking from a poisoned well by watching the TV news, or even reading the newspaper, but after a sobering moment of reflection after reading the book, he was soon calling me again and parroting the TV news. It was an early lesson for me on these issues. People need the egocentric propaganda that they fill their heads with. It would be very difficult to ever again take the American media seriously after reading Unreliable Sources, but it just did not seem to sink in with my friend. As I look back, that was really the beginning of the end of our friendship. My friend’s TV reality was just too incompatible with mine. If he could have left it at that, our relationship might have survived, but he then began doing something that I have now witnessed many times, and I am weary of the process. My friend’s interest in my journey and what I learned now began to set up extreme cognitive dissonance in him, and I am not sure how conscious he was of it, but in almost every conversation since his reading Unreliable Sources, he challenged my developing worldview, and he did it in the most inflammatory way possible. With a brother who was every bit as intelligent as I was, he knew that he could not match wits with me, and it was stupid to even try, but he did, continually, and it was very draining. One pal called it “sword fighting,” and it is similar to the trolling phenomenon on the Internet. I went from applying to the Air Force Academy to becoming a pacifist by age 19, partly as a result of my spiritual studies. Unlike my friend, I am a person whose convictions were tested, and harshly. Almost everybody on Earth sees themselves as victims, but because of their long journey, Jews seem to have an extra helping of that mentality, and maybe that was partly behind my friend’s ardor. Over the next several years, my friend and I had at least 50 conversations in which he would try to maneuver the conversation into portraying a situation that justified righteous violence against the bad guys. His arguments came from about a comic book, George Bush the Second level of intelligence. Impatience is my Achilles heel, and I get to work on it every day, but I almost never had to work on it more than listening to all of those violence-justifying conversations that my friend engaged me in. Those conversations always ended badly on my end. I always exposed the misinformation and irrationality that underlaid my friend’s perspective, but he always came back for more. It was irritating and burdensome, and I tried to avoid having such conversations with him. But he was having none of it and kept plowing ahead with his predilection for violence, but always of the armchair fantasy kind, not related to any real-world experiences. After interacting with Uncle Howard, Peter Ward, Brian O, and the like, I know that my work is world class, and trying to use it to help manifest the biggest event in the human journey is something that I take very seriously, to put it mildly. My estimation of my work’s worth is not just my ego talking, but what I have received from people that I highly respect, some who are world authorities. But I long ago learned the truth of that saying attributed to Jesus, that prophets have no honor in their home towns. That world authorities would rave about my work would mean nothing to my friend, even though he also knew that my mind functioned leaps and bounds above his. He saw me grow up in his neighborhood, and by golly, he had an opinion! Over those several years he repeatedly did his best to banish the challenge to his worldview that I represented, even when he saw what I went through and knew that he really could not honestly win a debate with me. As I look back, he was abusing our friendship, and it wore on me. I never called him up to talk about my latest scholarly lessons, not after he began parroting the evening news again, but I had to regularly field his obsession for finding situations, largely fantastic scenarios that he would dream up, that justified righteous violence. What I also learned from the experience was that when somebody begins trying to justify murder, if you don’t agree with their logic, you become their target. In ways I have to thank my friend, as I receive the lessons of his inane arguments before I began interacting with the public. There was always love between us, but he was really getting on my nerves as the years went by. On the 1996 backpack, he disregarded my advice on his footgear and bought some cheap boots that turned his feet into a bloody mess on the second day of a six-day backpack. He lost the boots that he wore on the 1993 trip, when he followed my instructions, decided to go with cheap boots, and was nearly delirious in pain for most of the trip. That was a lesson for me, and I am kind of a trip Nazi anymore, and will not allow unprepared people to go on trips with me, as it can put the entire party in jeopardy. When I moved back to Seattle and he visited me in the fall of 1997, he lectured me on how I was not an obedient member of the herd. I am not taking any rhetorical liberties here. He literally admonished me for not drinking the Kool-Aid of American nationalism and other dominant ideologies, while extolling his virtues of being a proud member of the herd, where he found safety. He was not the only one doing that in those days. It got back to me that my family thought that my public writings would get me in trouble with Washington State’s power structure. My friend and relatives actually had to admit that I was right, but being right and attacked was not as preferable as being wrong and silent (or right and silent), in their eyes. Those frank admissions were rather refreshing, as they admitted their cowardice and preoccupation with their self-interest, instead of getting into specious arguments with me. With most family members, I can talk about sports and the weather, and that is about it. Anything else gets into areas where the conversation becomes unpleasant, as they parrot the news and defend their delusional worldviews. Again, I have to own some of that. I know that my personal integrity is extraordinary, sadly, and I can’t expect anybody around me to match it, but it took me years to understand that that lack of integrity extends to their egocentric worldviews, which they will defend to the death, even if it means embracing certain death. They don’t want to hear anything that challenges it, and I am partly responsible for my friend’s escalating reactions to me. Even though he knew that he was in the wrong, his ego could not let it go. He had to make himself right by trying to prove me wrong, even though in sane moments, he knew that his task was hopeless. And that led to the end of our relationship, and worse, and that will take some telling. Best, Wade

Hi: It is time for another cautionary tale. I could tell a few like this, such as that old girlfriend who gave me a preview of what was in store for me, and one more should get the idea across in no uncertain terms. Everybody in the free energy field, who has played at the high levels, has stories like what I am about to tell. One reason why humanity has been successful has been its ability to learn vicariously. Monkeys have calls for various hazards, with one for snakes, one for birds of prey, etc., to alert their societies of imminent dangers. With their mastery of language, humans can provide more detailed information on hazards, so that others can learn vicariously and not walk into a den of lions unaware to take a nap, play with a python, and the like. Try as I might to dissuade it, almost all of my pupils have gone out to proselytize to their social circles, and I always hear back on relationships and even careers that were wrecked by doing that. I hope that more people can learn vicariously. One of the greatest hazards of the free energy pursuit is what the magnitude of its impact does to people’s minds. Free energy will be the biggest event in the human journey, by far, and it does not take much intelligence to begin to understand. If it came through the capitalist model, it would dwarf everything that came before it, making Bill Gates appear a pauper to all who lived in a world powered by free energy. People going off the deep end and declaring themselves to be the Second Coming or Messiah are just part of the absurd scenery. The coming of free energy will end the world as we know it, so few people have a lukewarm reaction to the idea of free energy, and I have seen it all over the past 30 years (I became Dennis’s partner 30 years ago yesterday). When people are around those who actually pursue free energy, the reactions escalate by orders of magnitude. I have watched many people turn into orcs before my eyes, lusting after The One Ring, watched them go insane, and have many other dysfunctional reactions. Some around me would try to help, but as I learned, it was not really with the goal in mind, which is bringing free energy to the world, but to somehow cash in by being close to it, serving their egos and not the cause. That is one reason behind my “give it away” strategy. Also, I have to own some of this. After getting clobbered like I did, I spent years trying to understand why the world worked so starkly differently from what I was taught. The vast majority of humanity does not have the personal integrity to question their conditioning, and usually those who awoke past it did it the hard way. Trying to wake up those around you is extremely hazardous. Those closest to you will often try to take you out, when you threaten the self-serving delusions of their in-group. This is just a hazard of being a social animal. I did not really understand when I left Ventura that the same lack of integrity that I witnessed during my free energy quest was the very same lack of integrity for why people eagerly defend the lies of their in-groups, and will even embrace certain death rather than question their indoctrination. It took me many years to realize that all of the reactions of fear and denial to the idea of free energy, to embracing certain death, to eagerly believing and defending the lies, were all facets of the same phenomenon, which was just my journey’s primary lesson generalized to all areas of our lives. I had a delusion that they could handle the truth, heck, were even interested in knowing the truth. Almost nobody on Earth is, so I have to own my part in what happened, of exposing people to information that challenged their self-serving beliefs, and that begins my final anecdote on this issue. Even before Junípero Serra elementary school opened, I caught the bus to school in front of a boy’s house, across the street from our future school that was under construction. We were always friendly but never close pals in those early years. He was every bit as intelligent as I was, and at nearly a year younger than me, they skipped him a grade when he began school. He is an Ashkenazi Jew, so his genius-level IQ was not unusual, and his father wanted to become a doctor but was unable to, so his father’s hopes of “my son the doctor” were heaped on that boy. He became a doctor of pharmacy instead, I am sure to his father’s everlasting disappointment. In high school, as we registered for classes, we suddenly decided to enroll in the same classes, and we did so through high school graduation, and both had the same 3.9 GPA. In our first month of high school, he “burned” me by “volunteering” me for a trip to Europe. I did not want to go, and had the summer of my life (I am mentioned by my tour leader in this book). He was scheduled to go on the same tour the next summer (seeing how I had been “burned” ), but his parents were faced with the decision of funding his college or a trip to Europe, not both, and he never went. After high school, he went off to the big city of LA, attended UCLA, immersed himself in fraternity life, and the like, while I attended the local community college, where I eventually met Mr. Professor after that voice spoke up. We slowly grew apart after high school, but he had a younger brother. Born only little more than a year apart, while the older brother was skipped a grade, the other was held back a grade, making them three years apart in school, so I never went to school with his younger brother. The younger brother did not get his brother’s brains, let us say. But we became close, just as his brother and I grew apart. He followed me to the same university, again, after I graduated, just as he followed me at all schools from fourth grade through his college diploma. My relationship with him will be the focus of my cautionary tale, which will take a little telling. Best, Wade

Hi: Here is a good place to begin with my relationship with Brian. I have written about him plenty, but now he comes into the story of the lessons that I learned. I have somewhere written that the man who ran the local chapter of the new science organization where they had their annual conference seemed to be trying to get rid of me when he sent me to pick up Brian from the airport. I should thank him one day. I did not know who Brian was, and within a minute or two in my car, he told me that it was Sparky Sweet whom Mr. Advisor told me about the previous year. Within a half-hour, we were driving past the front gates of Wright Patterson Air Force Base and joking about taking busloads of people from the conference and arriving at those gates, asking for a tour of Hangar 18 and the Blue Room. He probably told me about his astronaut background on that ride. At that time, I was going to a therapist for my post-traumatic stress disorder as a result of my Ventura days, and was a couple of years into my studies that eventually became my public writings. After driving Brian to that conference, we had no more contact for the next five years (I found my job at that trucking company a week or two later), until he published Miracle in the Void. I became that book’s biggest fan and Brian called me a few months later, to arrange for him to meet Dennis at a New Age expo where they both talked, as Dennis began barnstorming the USA just when Brian began his ride as the Paul Revere of Free Energy. Around the same time, Brian called me to be a “ringer” for his appearance on Art Bell’s show, as I recall, to ask him new energy questions as he promoted his book. I do not recall talking to Brian for another couple of years, when I called him as he was downloading the 1998 Face on Mars image, over the slow Internet connections that we had in those days. I did not contact him again for another three years, after I got to the bottom of the moon landings issue, partly because of him. That was in June or July of 2001, and Brian invited me to hang out with him in California, and I did. It was at almost exactly the same time as I posted that CIA letter on my site for Ralph. While driving Brian around on that trip, I met Mark, hung out with other free energy luminaries, and those were about my last days of “innocence,” as 9/11 happened the next month. I was interested to hear how Brian’s Paul Revere ride went, and he went into a litany of the crazed reactions of denial and fear that he received from his “peers” on his ride. That was when I first heard Brian openly wonder whether humanity was a sentient species, and I sadly understood. That conversation happened right after we were nearly run out of town for trying to interest California’s governor in free energy, as Enron was raping the state. As I watched the World Trade Center towers burning before they collapsed, I knew then that my efforts to right humanity’s ship were too little and too late. I had been in my midlife crisis for more than a year by then, and 9/11’s genocidal aftermath sent me into the dark phase my midlife crisis, which lasted until 2006, when Dennis invited me to the White House. It was five years of nearly continual emotional agony. If I had not stopped drinking in 2000, just as my midlife crisis was beginning, I might not be here today. I would have drunk myself to death, as my close relative did, who did it partly to deal with his secret life as a CIA contract agent. His fate is not unusual in that milieu, and I could have easily become a casualty of the bottle. After our meeting in California, Brian and I did not interact much, if at all, until he contacted me in the spring of 2003, not long after Bush’s Mission Accomplished speech, to help him found the New Energy Movement. But that story will come later. There is a great deal to still write about, as far as building that 2002 version of my site, and other lessons that I learned in those days. Best, Wade

Hi: Some of what follows I have not told publicly before, or it no longer exists on my site. I ordered Ralph McGehee’s book in 1990, when I saw an ad for it in Lies of Our Times. Those days were at the very beginning of my media studies. I had long ago heard about my close relative’s secret life as a CIA contract agent, heard about Dennis’s murderous adventures in Southeast Asia, and had pals who were in Vietnam, as murderers, deserters, and the like, after I nearly joined the military myself. I got to hear about our boys’ evil deeds in Vietnam, had already been radicalized when I encountered Ralph’s work, so little about the USA’s monumental crimes in Southeast Asia could surprise me, but Ralph’s account was something new to me, which paralleled mine in ways. Ralph’s book began with his moment of truth, which was similar to Dennis’s, which was similar to mine. But after his moving beginning, his story was kind of dry, recounting his experiences in the CIA, moving from one nation to another, oblivious as to what he was really involved with. I remember being about halfway through the book and laid it aside, reading other stuff more interesting to me at the time. Ralph’s book sat on my shelf, half read, for a month or so, and I remember looking at it during that interlude, thinking that I had better resume reading it to the end, out of a sense of scholarly duty. Boy, am I glad that I did, because Ralph’s dry presentation of his early career was just a warm-up to a series of haunting revelations. Ralph’s career breakthrough was received by scuttling his program, and he could not understand why. He came up with the wrong answer. Communism could not be damned as an evil if the peasantry wanted it. Ralph’s volunteering for Saigon duty in 1967 finally brought him to his place of understanding, and he nearly did not survive the experience, as Dennis almost did not survive. My moment of truth was gentler. Six years later, as I hurriedly wrote those 400 pages and slapped it onto the Internet, I contacted Ralph, asking for his permission to publish my synopsis of his book, and he consented. My site came down several months later, and did not reappear for more than a year, as I began publishing the essays that became my site as it stands today. I hardly contacted anybody for more than a year, as I studied and wrote away. One person reproduced my entire site, and as I came out of my study and writing hibernation, I discovered that my synopsis of Ralph’s book was reproduced in several places on the Internet. I contacted one former military operative who had published my synopsis, asking him where he got it from, and he replied that he thought that it came from Ralph. I was stunned. I hurriedly wrote it, as I cranked out those hundreds of pages, and when I saw what Ralph had done, I contacted him and wrote an essay devoted to his work. What you see today is close to the 1998 version that I wrote, and I doubt that I will change it much more. I began my relationship with Ralph after that, which lasted for a few years. Ralph was busy with his CIABASE efforts, I was busy with my writing and study, but we had plenty of exchanges in those years. I was in a debt-forgiveness march the night before the teargas at the WTO, and we commiserated in those days. While others had written about Ralph, he said that my summary was the best that he had seen on his work. I think it was because it takes one to know one. Ralph was another awakened overgrown Boy Scout. It took another awakened Boy Scout to truly recognize him. There really aren’t many like us, and it is one of the loneliest feelings in the world. Although Ralph always jumped through the CIA’s legal hoops, it did not stop their illegal harassment of him. Ralph retired in the shadow of Langley, and the local police seemed to train its goons by practicing on Ralph, trying to set him up for shoplifting and other crimes, and their efforts eventually led to bodily injury. Ralph finally decided that he had had enough around 2000, planned to move to Florida, near one of his children, stop his CIABASE activities, and quietly live out his remaining years. He sold off his intelligence library, of a thousand volumes, for a song, to a university, and I would have happily paid more for it, but the university was probably the best place for it. I bought the first issues of Lies of Our Times from Ralph (before I subscribed to it – I have the complete collection), and that first image comes from Ralph’s copy. Those issues have Ralph’s mailing label on them, and are about my only mementos from our friendship. When the Bush regime stole the 2000 election, the harassment of Ralph increased to the point where he was afraid to leave his home, and in August 2001, he sent me that CIA statement to put on my site, and it has been there ever since. It is not the only one like it, and Ralph said that mine seemed to reduce the FBI’s harassment of him. A month later, 9/11 happened, Ralph sought the lowest profile that he could, and I have left him alone since then. Another voice silenced, in The Land of the Free. The idea of freedom of speech in the USA is an obscene joke. You are free to speak up, and the goons are free to wipe you out on behalf of their patrons. Best, Wade

Hi: The Neanderthal article that Freeknowledge linked to did not have much new in it, but presented how indeed Neanderthals were denigrated until recently. But it was just like how all other non-Homo sapiens have been denigrated by our august species, which de Waal has written extensively on. I am coming to the end of his classic Chimpanzee Politics, and it has been an interesting read, getting into the details more than his other books that I have read. I just purchased some more of his books, and related ones, and I guess that I am going to see these days as my chimp/bonobo days. I have studied the issue plenty before, but I am taking a deeper dive than usual, which I have longed to do for more than 20 years. Chimps and bonobos provide a great window into the human past, even human nature. One finding that I keep seeing in chimp and bonobo studies is the same point that I make about the Fifth Epoch: social changes are dependent on the economic ones. People who think that we can somehow have some social movement, in which humanity suddenly becomes enlightened and lives in peace and happiness, conjuring it from our growing awareness, really don’t understand the human journey, much less what studies of chimps and bonobos are telling scientists. It was not until some chimps found themselves isolated by the Congo River, and their gorilla competitors left and never returned, which doubled the food supply of those chimps, did they make the social, and ultimately biological, changes that resulted in bonobos. Bonobo societies are dominated by females, and like when horticultural humans became matrilineal, bonobo societies are the most peaceful of all great ape societies, including humans. In the wild, female chimpanzees do not form strong social bonds, and are kind of sex toys of the dominant males. But in captivity, when three square meals a day are guaranteed, with no work required, then female chimps begin to form coalitions, and I think that traces of the path to the sisterhood of bonobos can be discerned. Once their economic conditions changed, and captive chimps live far longer and healthier than wild ones do, at least in places such as the Arnhem Zoo, where de Waal did his seminal work, and while many behaviors of captive chimps can be seen in wild ones, there has also been marked social change, particularly females banding together like they do. In fact, when de Waal began his work, the colony was dominated by a female who died just last year, at age 59. They removed her and another dominant female from the population, to let the males rise to dominance, which was controversial but highlights how female chimps rose in the hierarchy in captivity, with a radically different economy than seen in the wild. This issue of Neanderthals having advanced cognitive abilities has not been disputed in scientific circles for quite some time, but is still slowly becoming acknowledged amongst the lay public. In my opinion, behaviorally modern humans drove Neanderthals to extinction, and likely violently, while interbreeding with them, as there is Neanderthal DNA in the human genome. That is not unusual. There is also Denisovan DNA in the human genome, and likely that of other “archaic” humans. I think that the term “human” can be confidently applied to Homo erectus onward, which includes Neanderthals and Denisovans, and we are almost certainly not finished finding the fossils of human species that will be new to science. If you want to consider australopiths and the “hobbits” as human, which may be island-dwarfed australopiths, I won’t argue strenuously against it, but Homo habilis is the argued founder of the Homo genus, and I can see why. But behaviorally modern humans won the contest, and all other human lines were driven to extinction, and it would be no surprise to discover that Homo erectus drove australopiths to extinction. On the evolutionary scene, there is nothing strange about that, and the tool-mastering human line, which was far more proficient than what came before it, would have had great advantages over its more “primitive” progenitors. Many scientists have urged caution on the idea of behaviorally modern humans driving Neanderthals to extinction, and some caution is warranted, but relatively disinterested scientists see the other human species as just more megafauna casualties of the rise of behaviorally modern humans. This is not a very speculative idea, but for humans defending their ancestors, it can be hard to swallow, so we see all sorts of climate change hypotheses, but I strongly doubt that climate change had much to do with it. Humans are a very adaptable lot, and Neanderthals had been thriving in Europe for a quarter million years or more when behaviorally modern humans arrived, which coincided with the Neanderthal extinction, just like the “coincidence” for most of the world’s megafauna, when behaviorally modern humans arrived. Some scientists, such as Clive Finlayson, whom that New York Times article discussed, have become strong Neanderthal advocates, maybe even too strong, as Finlayson has modeled alleged Neanderthal regalia. The Neolithic Expansion drove hunter-gatherer men from the gene pool, as did the Bantu Expansion, as did Spaniards when they invaded the Caribbean. The idea that expanding Homo sapiens drove all other human species to extinction is not a stretch, based on the evidence. Best, Wade

Hi: I just read an excellent analysis of the surreal direction that the American media has lately taken. I don’t read Counterpunch much anymore, but it has long been one of the best voices on the Left. Its late editor, Alexander Cockburn, was a little too ideologically opposed to the idea that JFK was killed in a conspiracy and cover-up (Mike Parenti noted that neither Cockburn nor Uncle Noam were versed in the slightest on the JFK evidence amassed by independent researchers, and both openly stated that they didn’t want to be, which made their opinions on the subject worthless) but if you can get past the ideology, Counterpunch has served a great function. I am not a Trump fan, have never voted Republican in my life and never will, but the so-called Left is really going out there, and here is a recent article on the myths circulating, even before the Trump golden shower disinformation tale made the rounds. As I look back at my recent posts on my 2002 site’s essays, I see that I did not really do one on one of my favorite and earliest essays, on the lies that I was raised with. As with so many other areas of my work, if I had not been awakened by my first stint with Dennis, as I could see the media make it up as it went, even for “investigative” journalism, and then immediately worked for another company that the media and government targeted, in an effort to put it out of business, I would likely have not been inspired to dig into my early indoctrination and conditioning like I did, exposing the worthlessness of my profession, the lies around Saint Serra, and study the media, beginning with Lies of Our Times, which Uncle Ed edited and Uncle Noam wrote an article a month for. I read the daily newspaper every day for 20 years, and now realize that I was receiving a form of brainwashing. My digging into the lies around America’s Thanksgiving tradition, the real story of that tragic hero Custer, what the “settling” of the American West was really like, how George Washington crafted the plan to steal a continent, and the real story of Columbus’s heroic feat, just came with the territory. The West’s censorship of Twain and Orwell I discovered through Uncle Noam’s work, as I did regarding the media’s treatment of the Reagan administration’s genocides in Central America. As the war drums were beating when I moved to Ohio, a childhood friend called me up, parroting the Iraqi incubator story, and I’ll tell his story soon, as another cautionary tale on getting your social circles involved in work like mine. Like my exposure of the structural corruption in my profession, I finished that “Lies That I Was Raised With” essay with a chapter on the historian’s ideal and how far short the profession has fallen, due to the standard in-group conflicts of interest, demonstrating once again that personal integrity is the world’s scarcest commodity. Those kinds of performances were exactly the kind that got Brian O openly wondering if humanity was a sentient species, but his observation came in reaction to his scientific peers’ reaction to the idea of free energy. Orthodox scientists too often have been the high priests of materialism, which is our Epoch’s dominant religion. Best, Wade

Hi: When that voice spoke up for the first time, I left the path of my science studies. I suppose that I began them again in Boston, when I began to understand how the heat pump worked, while Dennis began talking about free energy. Scientific heavyweights soon got involved, and I went back to accounting and helping run the business. I resumed my science studies in early 1989, to help prepare any expert witnesses that we might line up. I recall reading the classic Clark biography of Einstein in 1989, but it was not until I moved to Ohio and begin hitting the books, studying patents, thermodynamics, the Michelson-Morley experiment, and the like, that I really resumed my scientific studies. I met Brian in 1991 at a new science conference, but until 2003, I would call my studying efforts more scholarly than scientific. I was learning the scholar’s/historian’s craft more than the scientist’s in those days. I began studying the “skeptics” in the early 1990s, and in 1995, I stumbled into the Velikovsky issue with this book, while on the trail of Carl Sagan’s debunking work. I have been on the fringes of the Velikovsky issue ever since. For several years, I read the salvos fly between Velikovsky’s supporters and critics, and I knew that getting to the bottom of Velikovsky’s multidisciplinary hypothesis would take many years of study. After publishing my 2002 version of my site, I stated to my circles that resuming my science and math studies was high on my wish list, with Velikovsky’s hypothesis in mind, and I had hoped to take college classes in my “spare” time. When I resumed my career in 2003, however, I worked 60-70 hour weeks for most of the year, for the next decade. So, beginning with Uncle Bucky and the Peak Oilers, I resumed my scientific studies in earnest, but largely through popularized works, while I wrestled with my monster of a midlife crisis. I did not perform my studies with Velikovsky’s hypothesis in mind, but my studies took me into the rudiments of astronomy, geology, archeology, dating sciences, and many other disciplines, which Velikovsky tried his hand at for formulating his hypothesis. In early 2014, as I was writing my big essay and had occasion to write about Velikovsky, related to the megafauna extinctions, I sat back and critically thought about his hypothesis, in light of what I had learned during the previous decade, and I could not think of any part of his hypothesis that stood up when compared against the latest scientific findings. The idea of Venus’s erupting from Jupiter a few millennia ago is ludicrous, as is the idea that Mars had a recent near-miss with Earth. The idea that the megafauna were wiped out by celestial events is far more untenable than the climate change hypothesis, which I don’t buy at all. Velikovsky’s literal interpretations of Sumerian cuneiform are not taken seriously by any Sumerian scholar, and Sitchin did the same thing, with his literalist interpretations of humanity’s first writings. Like the Epic of Gilgamesh, early literary tales were largely fantasy, with some historical truth in them, similar to what became the Old Testament. Literalist interpretations of ancient manuscripts are shaky ways to formulate scientific hypotheses. No need to derive wild celestial explanations for Biblical events that likely never even happened, such as the Exodus. As I finished my big essay, when I thought back to Velikovsky’s hypothesis, I discarded it as one of the many rabbit holes that I explored during my scholar’s journey. The only area where I will give Velikovsky credit today is invoking catastrophic hypotheses when uniformitarian theory was a dogma. Velikovsky died only a few years before a revival of catastrophic theory in the wake of the bolide hypothesis for the dinosaurs’ demise. Mass extinctions finally became a respectable study in English-speaking nations, overturning a century of Darwinian dogma, and some scientists got carried away with using celestial events to explain mass extinctions. My view today is that Sagan’s sloppy and scurrilous attack on Velikovsky’s hypothesis revived interest in Velikovsky’s work, kind of unfairly. I think that the reception of Velikovsky’s hypothesis was scandalous by many influential scientists, but that did not make Velikovsky right. Scientific hypotheses die all the time at the hands of new facts, as Einstein noted, and long-discarded scientific ideas have often been revived after banishment for generations, but I strongly doubt that much of Velikovsky’s theory (Napier and Clube’s work notwithstanding) will ever be revived in scientific circles, just like Hapgood’s Pole Shift hypothesis will likely never emerge again from the dustbin of scientific history. Even Einstein can be wrong. Best, Wade

Hi: Regarding my original version of today’s site, published in 2002, its longest essay was my American Empire essay. Only my big essay is larger. I suppose that its genesis was my first stint with Dennis, when my illusions about my society were harshly stripped away. I got to see Dennis go from “the people really care,” at the beginning, to “almost nobody cares” a decade later, and nearly two decades after that, he admitted that his allies hurt him more than his enemies did. I discovered that literal gangsters ran the county where I was raised, and the county courthouse, where I had my life’s pivotal moment, was just down the road from the neighborhood where I was raised. When I began my media studies, the war drums were beating for Iraq, which began a series of eye-openers for me that lasted for about three years. I read Howard Zinn’s account of Columbus’s heroic feat, not long before I encountered David Stannard’s American Holocaust, and then it was nearly a decade of continual study of my great nation and its development, including Ward Churchill’s magnum opus, A Little Matter of Genocide, which he lost his career over, similar to Dennis’s being imprisoned for not filing a form. The Father of our Country, whom my home state is named after, as well as my nation’s capital, was just another mass-murdering thief and America’s richest man, partly from those thefts. The pious friar whom my grade school was named after, who was sainted in 2015, was a genocidist. Over and over, the shining heroes held up to me were little more than thieves and murderers. Such are the icons of nationalist ideologies. When I studied for my big essay, the political-economic, even Epochal, aspects of my nation became ever clearer. The English invasion was a relatively late event, after the Spanish had the Western Hemisphere largely to themselves for a century. The English rode the wave of a rising Europe and reluctantly turned to coal for its energy, as the British Isles had been completely deforested. Tapping the energy of coal, for smelting iron and powering machines, was the key initial development of the Industrial Revolution. Without that, the rest could not have happened. So, a rising England, with its “surplus population” of dispossessed peasants, stumbled into a continent that was almost wholly unexploited, inhabited by peoples still at the horticultural and hunter-gatherer phases of the human journey. Hunter-gatherers lived in the Second Epoch, with minimal impacts on the lands, and horticultural peoples also had modest impacts. The peoples of the Eastern Woodlands largely lived in matrilineal horticultural societies, which had not been seen in the Old World for millennia and was unheard of in Europe, who lived in societies far freer than anything that Europe was familiar with. The mound-building Mississippian culture was the political-economic equivalent of pre-state Fertile Crescent agrarian societies, and the forests and soils of North America were largely intact when Europe invaded. When the Industrial Revolution, phase two began, with oil and electricity, the USA was at the forefront of it, as Americans quickly became history’s richest and most powerful people. No animal likes being coerced, and each Epoch of the human journey became more humane than the one that preceded it, as humanity’s energy surplus increased. The USA rode the wave of industrialization and a continent that had yet to be plundered of its Third and Fourth Epoch energy sources, but the USA pretended that it invented freedom, as it stole the continent and annihilated its inhabitants while becoming an imperial juggernaut in the process. But the USA also pretends that it is not an empire, although a presidential advisor candidly admitted it on the heels of a recent genocidal imperial foray, justified with lies, as usual. I wrote a ten-page essay in 1998, as Clinton bombed Iraq, which could be seen as prelude to my American Empire essay. If you had asked me what I was doing, writing my American Empire essay, back in 2000, I would have likely answered with something like, “To help shatter the illusions of American nationalism.” Today, I see it as helping Americans shake one of their most pernicious in-group ideologies, and to caution to anybody who thinks that the USA is some shining beacon of goodness. As Einstein said, nationalism is an infantile disease. When people wave the flag, their brains shut down and primal instincts take over. Such people are almost effortlessly stampeded to their doom. As I see it today, my American Empire essay is an exercise in helping cultivate sentience, which is sorely lacking among the American people. But that essay can be generalized for any in-group, as exposing a series of conceits, lies really, which inculcate and enforce in-group ideologies. As Jesus said, love the enemy. I have witnessed the most brainless reactions to my work over the years, and mostly from people defending their American in-group from the affront of my work, and my American Empire essay is the essence of that challenge, along with my Lies that I was Raised With essay. My “peers” usually blow a fuse only a few pages into my work, such as this section of it. Their meltdowns can be something to behold, but that is not my intention. I seek to engage the awake and the awakening, not wake the sleeping. They won’t awaken with my writings. Best, Wade

Hi: On current events, the Trump/Russia saga just got more bizarre. Time will tell, but this smells like the British “dossier” on Iraq that was a mishmash of a plagiarized college paper and other fantasy. So goes the “intelligence” field. Strange times. Back to my lessons learned. I can’t recall if my medical racket essay was written before or after 2000, but I lean toward it first being drafted in 1998-1999. The genesis of it was when I was 12 and my family went “health nut” and my father reversed the hardening of his arteries, which medical dogma declared “impossible” until quite recently. Sometimes I think about what my “friends” have been up to in manipulating my life’s journey. I left Southern California twice, vowing to never return, and there I was, driving to LA while Dennis was in jail, and getting a job at a company that the medical racket tried to wipe out just after I got there. I don’t know of anybody else, nor have I heard of anybody else, who worked at companies that were attacked by both the energy and medical rackets. The lab had deep enough pockets to survive the attacks, but the lab’s owner soon sold out to a Fortune 500 company and retired. He had experienced enough of that. So, when I began my studies in 1990 in Ohio, I was ready for what I found, first with books on Naessens and Rife, and I soon discovered Ralph Hovnanian’s Medical Dark Ages, to find out, among other revelations, that the booklet that saved my father’s life was banned in the USA, The Land of the Free. About 100 pages into my medical racket essay, the lightbulb finally went on for my editor, as she saw how similar the energy and medical rackets were. It was an “aha” moment for her, when she made her personal paradigm shift. My fluoride essay was a prelude to my medical racket essay, and I wrote it around 1997-1998. I first heard about water treatment issues from Paul Bragg. So, he gets credit for that, as well as introducing me to a fasting regimen. A decade later, my dentist wrote a fluoridation paper that was very similar to my fluoride essay. I still only know one person who tried an alternative cancer treatment. I never even volunteer alternative health information anymore, unless the person has expressed an interest to me. While knowing about all the death and suffering meted out by Western medicine is not easy, it was one of the less harrowing areas for me to write about. Far harder to stomach were the many genocides inflicted by the West on the world’s indigenous peoples, which rebounded in World War II when Hitler took a page from his imperial rivals and did it to white people. Those genocides continue to this day, primarily inflicted or abetted by my great nation, and I can hardly find an American who knows or cares, which is in keeping with my life’s primary lesson. That egocentric ceding of authority to others is what makes humanity such an obedient herd of lemmings, as humanity races toward it collective death today, while Godzilla formulates his contingency plans for survival. I found that the same basic principles of awakening apply to any field. You first have to care, and if you chase your heart far enough, you will awaken. That awakened state can then be used in all areas of your life. It enabled me to produce my comprehensive work. Best, Wade

Hi: Not much time this morning, and this will be another current events post. As Obama leaves office, there seems to be a very concerted effort to sour things with Russia before Trump takes office. There is a deliberately provocative troop deployment taking place right now. Washington Post led the way with its McCarthyite reporting, and in a stunning turnaround, now wants to retire the very term that it was so instrumental in establishing: fake news. In Orwellian fashion, Washington Post did not even acknowledge its role in the phenomenon, acting like it was above the fray. Washington Post has published outright disinformation articles about Russia lately. The State Department recently defended the fact that there has been no evidence published on the Russian “hacking” allegations, and now China gets into the act regarding American accusations that are evidence-free. Back in my home town, I got both barrels of how the media can make it up as it goes. When I moved away, just as the war drums were beating for Iraq, I also began my media studies. The lies that the American media tells about foreign events can be far more spectacular, and often are pure fantasy when they are not deliberately lying. So, what is happening today is not unusual. Any American whose head is not in the sand should know that the CIA is a cloak-and-dagger operation that deliberately lies to the American people, and it is hilarious that Obama is complaining that the American people trust Putin more than the CIA. The crazy part is that the Russian media is more reliable in its reporting than the American media. Russia Today has many people on its show that will never be on the American media, such as Uncle Noam. You can see Noam on Democracy Now!, but that is about as close to the MSM as it gets in the USA. Noam recently talked about a blatant instance of NPR censoring him. These lessons learned posts help develop the background for how I view things such as the American media, and what is happening today is one of the more extreme recent manifestations of how the media manipulates the public. I was recently asked about Putin by somebody close to me, and my reply was that the fact that I was even being asked about him shows the power of the American propaganda system. I recall one observer saying long ago that the American media may not tell us what to think, but it does tell us what to think about. Best, Wade

Thanks Malcolm: I regard efforts like that, such as that Lockheed truckload fusion reactor, to be part of an effort to release clean energy under the capitalist model, in which each unit costs $1 billion. I know of far better ways to go. But the Global Controllers will no longer sit astride the planet if it goes that way, so we see these kinds of projects. I can actually live with that power play, as it can halt the destruction of the biosphere, and long-term, the Global Controllers will not be able to maintain control. That is certainly one way that it could go. What Sparky Sweet had is a direction that TPTB have forbidden for generations. Then free energy machines could be made for a few bucks, and that will be the end of capitalism and most aspects of our industrial world, as a new Epoch will be ushered in. That is what the global elites are most worried about. That particular one has the virtue of being cold fusion, which was widely pilloried in the 1980s, but what is most important, as far as the people in charge go, is that any commercial models go for $1 billion a pop or so. But if this project ever seems to become very threatening, if it gets that far along, it will get quietly subsumed into the black project world, and you won’t hear any more about it. That is a common fate, such as when electrogravity research went black in the 1950s. My friend saw the fruit of that research many years ago, as has Greer. Best, Wade

Hi: This week will likely be short ones, as I work long hours at my day job. I have written some in the past on my relationship with Ralph McGehee. Ralph was like Smedley Butler, Rodney Stich, Gary Wean, or Mr. Mentor, in that he found out about the evils of the American system by working in it. My discovery of the worthlessness of my profession was mild compared to what they came to understand. Mr. Mentor did not speak out publicly, but those others did, and they generally paid dearly for it. Ralph sent me a statement to publish when the FBI’s harassment became so great that Ralph dared not leave his house. Stich had his life wrecked by the gangster judges in California, who tried to murder Gary. Those over-grown Boy Scouts could not keep silent in the face of evil, and would all be called whistleblowers today. Crucifying whistleblowers is an American pastime, with the festivities led by American presidents anymore. While Langley is filled with zombies who count their days to retirement in quiet desperation, drinking themselves into a stupor each night, but Ralph could not do that. He did shuffle along with the zombies in his last years at the CIA, but it was only for show, as he performed the studies at Langley that allowed him to write his book. For me, this bogus Soviet “hacking” meme, with the “intelligence” agencies briefing the sitting president is ironic. Ralph never once saw the CIA tell the truth to Congress. Instead came a steady stream of lies. Ralph worked for William Colby, and when he saw Colby testifying at the Church Committee hearings, he knew that Colby was lying, but Colby was fired by the sitting president because he seemed too candid publicly. Colby was probably taken out by this own, and if Greer’s reporting is relevant (and here), it was because Colby might have been about to leak something far more impactful than the truth. Orwell’s nightmare writings only hint at the truth of how it really works. Best, Wade

Hi: After Judi Bari survived a murder attempt and was crippled (and the FBI prosecuted her for surviving a murder attempt, surreally), she wrote instead of organized and protested, and said, “Those who can’t do, write.” I see my work kind of like that, but it has its place. My biggest learning experiences were in the real world, with my mystical awakening, days in LA, stints with Dennis and Brian, seeing the medical racket with my own eyes, etc. But I have had enough Indiana Jones-ing for one lifetime, and seek the quiet life anymore. Most of my essays written for the 2002 version of my site have a story behind them, and I’ll tell them in coming posts. I’ll start with my public and other Internet interaction. Free energy is big stuff, to put it mildly. Not only will it be the biggest event in the human journey, it will end the world as we know it, as the previous Epochal Events did. If people do not react in denial or fear, they go crazy with greed, megalomania, and the like. I have seen it all in the past 30 years (it was 30 years ago this month when I became Dennis’s partner; oh, where does a life go?), as I have fielded thousands of reactions to the idea of free energy. In 2007, I finally decided to organize those reactions in this table, and I have not seen anything in the past decade that did not nicely fit into one of those categories. My thread at Avalon is a mere sampler, and Bill and friends keep the trolls at bay. More typical of my public interaction was the xxxxx swarm at another forum that eventually saw me essentially booted out, or my experience at this forum, when I decided to interact with the public again. I had a presence at a New Age forum, which had a section devoted to my work, like at here, which the forum’s owner completely erased soon after Mr. Skeptic arrived. Mr. Skeptic stalked me on the Internet for a decade, as you can see here. Anywhere that I appeared on the Internet would soon receive a visit from Mr. Skeptic, sometimes on the same day, as he heaved a disinformation bomb at me, or he privately hurled it to those who promoted my work, which often soured our relationship. He had to be very busy, stalking me like that, which provided more evidence that he was a professional, not some free-lancing disinformation specialist. It was disheartening how easily he gulled big names in the free energy field with his affable skeptic charade. Naïveté is no crime, and everybody that I most respected in the free energy milieu began their journeys that way, but people in thrall to naïveté won’t last long on the free energy path. Either they will grow out of their naïveté or get devoured by the milieu. When Brian toured the world, speaking at conferences and the like, talking up free energy, he had his own professional stalker who would arrive and harry Brian. It was like what Dennis experienced with Bill the BPA Hit Man. Brian had his life shortened, courtesy of the American military, when he hosted a UFO conference back in his days of getting his feet wet in the milieu. Putting on free energy conferences is suicidal today. From 1996 to 2002, in the days of innocence on the Internet, I had my email address on every page of my site. I took on all comers during those years. I met quite a few of my cyberpals that way, but also I had to field attacks from the public. In those days, people were usually not anonymous cowards like they are today, and a non-negotiable policy for my effort is no anonymity. Anonymous cowards are not going to get anything done of importance. Being real people is less than 1% of what it will take for the choir to make a dent. But after 9/11, the USA lost its collective sanity. The attacks that I received became increasingly vicious and irrational, and were almost always made by anonymous cowards. In early 2002, I finally decided that it was not worth it anymore to interact directly with the public, and I only interact in semi-public forums such as Avalon, or my own, which I control. Dealing with trolls and assailants from the public is bad enough, or attacks from officialdom, but the worst came from my social circles. For even the least intelligent among us, it does not take long to glimpse free energy’s magnitude, and when those around me saw what I was chasing after, their reactions could be extreme. Some tried to help, but usually from their egos. Many attacked me or ceased contact with me, and those closest to me knew how to hit me where it hurt. That was the worst part of my journey, by far. The attacks from a former girlfriend were only a gentle preview of what was coming, and by the time I heard that my mother had made a scrapbook of her employer’s libelous articles on us, and took it on tour to my investors, friends, and family, telling them the story of her son the criminal, it did not even hurt anymore. When I say that proselytizing to one’s social circles about free energy is dangerous, I did not just come up with it one day, off the top of my head. I learned that one the hard way, and will get into some of the details of the attacks, for the first time publicly, to drive the point home. What I experienced was not unusual, I am sorry to report. When I traded notes with fellow travelers and related how my social circles reacted, the response was usually along the lines of: “Welcome to the club.” Best, Wade